Not My Fault
by Anpan Roller
Summary: It was never Kaito's fault. It was the long, shaft-shaped popsicle's. KaitoXLen; LIME


**A/N**: Of all times to be attacked by plot bunnies. I am really sorry that I harvested arbitrary plot bunnies inside my head. They're evil I tell you, evil.

This is just another nonsensical story of mine. Just a warning that Kaito is super OOC in here. Aaaand this is my first Vocaloid fic. *plays with fingers* That being said, please enjoy the story! (:

Oh wait, not before the obligato-

**DISCLAIMER: **Vocaloids are not mine.**  
><strong>(World is.)

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><p>This just isn't fair. None of this makes any sense at all. Why am I always the subject of their endless psychotic tortures? I don't see any wrong I have done to them; I'm as guiltless as pure chocolate Dazs. Honestly now, what exactly did I do to deserve all these?<p>

First of all, it wasn't my fault that the weather was so hot. And neither was it my fault that hot weathers encourage scanty dressing. And it definitely wasn't my fault that the only food that people can use to fight this terrible melting weather is popsicle. A long, shaft-shaped Popsicle that is meant to be licked, sucked or even more scarily, chewed off.

You can blame it on Len. Nobody asked that boy to fall asleep eating a popsicle. Fine, I did, but not make it so unkemptly. For the love of Dazs that boy eats popsicles in the messiest manner possible; every bit around his mouth is glued with disgusting, sticky strands of… I don't even know whether that's popsicle juice or saliva anymore. And nobody asked him to sprawl on the floor with half his shirt up either. Or moan "_Oh Kaito-nii why is it so hot?_"

But to be honest, I'd say it was all Master's fault. He was the one who gave Len such perfect features. Frankly I wished I was the one with the sparkling sea-blue eyes and thick, long eyelashes that flutter ever so daintily. And holy ice cream lord Len has such silky smooth skin; almost like the rich and creamy texture the vanilla ice from that ice cream parlour down the road had. (I swear I ascended to ice cream heaven the day I tried it.)

So who was to blame when Len just looked so alluring on that day? Master, that's who. I mean hey, that boy was wearing a white singlet that turned sheer because it was soaked with his sweat (or the popsicle-saliva concoction, but I'd rather not think about that), had his moistened golden locks plastered onto that milky patch of skin on the side of his neck and his cherry red lips were puckered around that popsicle, suckling and suckling some more. That melting, long and shaft-shaped popsicle.

I'd also like to add that the girls happened to be coincidentally out at that moment. So who are they to complain when they are the ones who left me alone in a room in a big, empty house with a devious popsicle-wielding boy?

Of course, given the backdrop of the above situation, anybody with a clear sense of judgment would have known it was only expected that nature takes its course. By that I meant that my human-like body gave me something else that's popsicle-shaped (blame this on Master too.) And you still cannot blame me because I did try to will that thing to go away. But alas reality is a cruel thing isn't it? Actually, on second thought, Len would have been crueler than that.

"Go limp! Go limp!" I was hissing at myself as I turned around to get him out of my sight. I did try to prevent things, see? But they say you can never fight what was meant to be. On my third attempt I heard a strained whimper coming from behind. That scheming little body of flawlessness was calling for me. "Kaito-nii?"

I tried my best to muster a normal face. Other than twitching eyebrows and trembling corners of my lips, I'd say I did pretty well. Very carefully, I turned such that he can only see my face, and nothing else. "…y-yes?" My voice sounded like a strangled cat, I concur, but I'd like to see anyone else face Len and not sound like he's being mutilated.

Then he did it. He pulled me into his trap with his large, innocent eyes that practically twinkle. That cunning beauty batted his eyelashes as he made a seemingly chaste plea: "I finished my popsicle, can I have another one?"

I swallowed my saliva (nevermind that I almost chocked on it) as I studied the threads of sticky fluid inside his mouth and slowly creeping down the corner of his lips. My eyes trailed to his chest, where the drenched shirt was fused to his skin and that boy was breathing so heavily. When his chest rose the thin fabric would be stretched taut and I could see two pink buds, like two of the mini bits of strawberry in a strawberry shortcake ice.

What I did next was to simply obey the laws of the Universe and do what humanity does to evolve. Granted, I'm not exactly a human, but Master did program such systems into us and I'm pretty sure he's tired of creating new Vocaloids, so why not let us do the work for him anyway? Heck I was helping to relieve my Master's workload at the same time; I should be given a reward for being a good boy!

Huh? What? Boys cannot have babies?

…is it true, Len?

…

N-No I am not embarrassed! It's… It's just the lighting that made my face red, that's all! N-No these are not tears either! I'm not sad! W-Well, you can't blame me because I didn't know that either! And it's not my fault that the girls came back at the wrong time either. Nor am I to blame for Len's loud cries of gratification. I swear by Dazs' latest flavour, I have done nobody any wrong!

So, can anyone explain to me why in the name of ice cream lord did the girls make me wear this pedobear costume?

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><p><strong>AN**: Hope you enjoyed this little piece of gibberish! Thank you for reading!


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